


Undefined

by fojee



Series: Endless Tale [1]
Category: Japanese Drama, 臨床犯罪学者 火村英生の推理 | Himura Hideo no Suiri | Criminologist Himura and Mystery Writer Arisugawa (TV)
Genre: Basically, M/M, nothing sexual happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 11:38:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6115308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fojee/pseuds/fojee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The criminologist and the mystery writer and what lies between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undefined

**Author's Note:**

> Written in a single mad dash after I finally watched episode four. (Still waiting for subs for five and six...) I didn't state anything explicitly but Himura is ace, while Alice is a bit pansexual.

The two of them kept separate mansions; Alice owned his place, cramped though it was, while Himura rented his. (His landlady Tokie-san was a god-send.) And yet between prowling crime scenes and sleeping over, they spent more nights together than apart. 

Alice didn't know what Tokie-san thought of them. She treated them both like they were her nephews instead of a tenant and a half. And he genuinely enjoyed her presence. But she was careful never to ask anything too personal, such as, "What exactly is your relationship?" 

It was a relief, because Alice wouldn't know what to answer anyway. He could write novels about one Himura Hideo, but he had no words for what they had. It was what it was.

They had met in college, and something just clicked between them, like a key turning in a lock. Alice made friends easily, but he had a tendency to lose them whenever he would forget appointments in favour of a deadline, or when he would blank out in a conversation, because his mind would be in the world of his novel. But Himura stuck around. And then they started relying on each other more and more, for a hundred and one reasons, until they were practically glued at the hip. 

Alice was the one who first likened Himura to Sherlock Holmes, but the only time Himura acknowledged the resemblance, that is, by calling him Watson, was when he needed a favour.

He didn't know how Himura managed to convince the police of the necessity of Alice's presence on crime scenes. He only got it right maybe sixty to seventy percent of the time, and he could become a nuisance when he got stuck on interesting details that had no bearing on a case. But he guessed that Inspector Nabeshima appreciated his ability to keep Himura in line. And Alice occasionally served as anchor and translator for his strange partner-in-crime (solving). Sometimes, he was the one to lead Himura inadvertently towards the right conclusion; he liked those cases best because Himura would have this light in his eye...

It was all novel fodder anyway. Although he never used an actual crime as plot (he wouldn't give the criminals the satisfaction of immortalizing them on paper), he took details from the professionals at work, like how forensics handled and then interpreted the evidence, or the myriad ways that witnesses lied, or the look on criminals' faces when they realize it was all over. He just soaked it in. 

He pretended to be annoyed when Himura would text him, "You're bored, aren't you?" But he still came, if only to explain Himura to newbie detectives, if only to act like that clown at the rodeo distracting the bull from the cowboy on the ground, if only to make wildly improbable guesses that he knew amused Himura to no end. If only to drag the other man to the surface after diving too deep into a criminal's psyche. 

When on one case, he saw the reflection of Himura's face against his bedroom window, he felt his blood chill in his veins. "Don't ever show the police that smile," he warned him. It was sheer joy, the smile of a psychopath who had found an interesting new toy to dissect.

To say that he didn't fear it would be to lie. But Alice also felt protective, like he was the only thing keeping Himura from going over the edge of a cliff. He would do anything to keep the other man safe. And sane. 

But their relationship--whatever it was--continued to exist in the light of day. They had meals together (the quality of which depended on whoever was picking up the tab), and they challenged each other with their little games, and Alice occasionally asked for advice about plot possibilities with the criminologist. (Very occasionally; as good as Himura was at deduction, he was terrible at inventing mysteries that people actually wanted to read.) 

Once, he even visited Himura at school, and sat in on one of his classes, much to the other man's chagrin. Alice chalked that up to the nerves of a man who wasn't used to having students who listened to his every word. But he should be used to it by now; When it comes to Himura, Alice always paid attention, and he knew the other man returned the favour ten-fold. (If only for the better observational skills.)

It was the writer in him that would point out that their lives were as entangled as any couple's. Partner was a most inadequate word. (And assistant was just ridiculous.) The rest of him ignored the question altogether. He was too busy making it work.

The cases kept on coming. But Alice and Himura faced them together. 

 

This last one, though, hit him harder in a way he didn't expect.

They ended up at his place, and he stared down at the magazine article about the dead jeweller without any of the words sinking in, while Himura ranted about the odd details surrounding the crime. The missing clothes, the body left floating in the cocoon, the shaved moustache. 

"Say something," Himura demanded, and Alice blathered on until the other man told him to shut up. He protested on cue, although he was used to being the semi-invisible sounding board to the other man's mental process. He lapsed back into his own troubled thoughts, and then turned to his most common coping mechanism: the blank page.

In it, he poured all his thoughts and feelings about Miss Sagio, the secretary who reminded him of his first love in junior high. The one who had tried to commit suicide after receiving his confession letter. She was like a big question mark in his life. And he had written several books trying to feel his way towards an answer. In a way, she had been his first muse.

The latest muse, however, started thrashing on the couch, letting out deep groans that caught Alice's attention. He spun in his chair and watched over Himura. Eventually, the other man fought his way out of his nightmare.

"Should I wake you up the next time?" Alice asked with deliberate casualness as he chewed on a red bean cake. He had no idea of the contents of those nightmares, but the dark shadows in Himura's eyes led him to believe they were really bad.

"Please, and gently," Himura answered, holding his gaze a second too long.

Gently. Alice looked at him askance. They weren't the kind of friends who rough-housed with each other, so it wasn't like he would throw a punch, or even a pillow into Himura's face, as much as he wanted to sometimes. And yet he thought he understood. For someone who was so cerebral that he walked around dressed in the same suit and over-sized coat, and hair tumbling all over his face, Himura Hideo was a dangerous man. As much as he teased him and tested his deductive powers, Alice wouldn't push him far enough for that side to come out. 

Alice let the dangerous man lie back down to sleep and he turned back to his computer, keeping up the clack of keys until he stopped feeling those eyes drill into the back of his head, and could hear the soft rhythmic breathing of a sleeping Himura. 

He tiptoed to the couch to tuck him in, fingers digging briefly into Himura's scalp, thumb attempting to smooth the furrow between those brows, before he turned off his laptop and headed to his own bed.

Morning came too soon, but with it came the appetizing smells of a meal he didn't have to prepare himself. Alice looked at the plates in bemusement. Perfectly cooked bacon and eggs with toast. "This is like breakfast for newly-weds," he murmured.

"I feel like your wife," Himura shot back, untucking his tie from his pocket.

Alice couldn't stop his lips from turning up at the corners. He crossed his arms and leaned forward, only to have Himura do the same. For a second, he had his friend's entire attention. It was a heady feeling.

And then Himura ended the moment with another quip. "Stop staring at me. The newly-wed time is over." Alice didn't know why he felt a sudden pang below his ribs. "Are you an idiot? Do you know that I'm..." Alice bit back the words. It didn't matter; Himura could read them on his face plain as day. He ducked down and sliced a piece of toast to shove in his mouth.

 _I'm in love with you._ They were words he had never spoken aloud. He knew that Himura knew, but neither of them had ever bothered to bring it up. But with this case, he somehow felt as if he needed to reassure the other man. 

On the one hand, Himura Hideo didn't do jealousy. 

On the other hand, when Miss Sagio confronted Himura about his callousness in revealing the real murderer, Alice very nearly started a fight. He settled for turning her words back on her, before bowing politely to her crying face and hurrying after Himura. 

Who was standing just outside the door, waiting for him. Alice bumped shoulders with him, touching base, reassurance and question rolled into one. Himura raised an eyebrow, which most of his hair concealed anyway, but Alice grinned. Message received. 

 

They touched a lot, those two. Tokie-san noticed it as soon as Himura-sensei moved in. Hands on the other's shoulders, the occasional ruffling of one's messy hair, or leaning close to whisper in each other's ear. Sometimes, they sat down on the couch side by side, petting her cat with fingers that usually end up tangled in each other. And yet she had never caught them kissing. Himura-sensei usually ended up sleeping on the couch, while Arisugawa-sensei took the bed whenever he stayed over.

She wondered about them, yes. The one thing she knew for sure was that they needed each other. Everything else was a mystery. 

But some mysteries didn't need an answer.

**Author's Note:**

> This show is based on a series of mysteries I would love to read... If only they were available in translation.


End file.
